


On Growing Up

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Little Women Series - Louisa May Alcott
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-22
Updated: 2004-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-25 07:55:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1640051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been three sullen days since Laurie had made his fateful confession.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Growing Up

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Sphinxvictorian

 

 

It had been three sullen days since Laurie had made his fateful confession, and not even Marmee had dared venture up to Jo's attic, where she sat with a black scowl on her face and scribbled away as though her life depended on it. She came to the table at mealtimes, gulped her food in a most unladylike fashion and then returned at once to her sanctuary, speaking not a word to her sisters. The March household was a gloomy one indeed, and seemed likely to stay that way until Laurie departed for Europe.

If one could glimpse a sheet of Jo's writing from these past days, it would bear scant resemblance to her usual work. Instead of the clever tumble of words that usually tripped from the nib of her pen, these pages were clumsily written and sentimental to please even Amy. Poor Jo was quite disconsolate; 'her boy' was hers no longer and it was all of her own doing! She felt herself quite the villain of the piece, without fully understanding how she had got there.

She desperately wanted to see Laurie and make things right, but her consciousness of his hurt and her own stubborn pride had been enough to hold her back until that afternoon, when she had glimpsed him at the window, staring wistfully at their cottage and by chance, straight at her. She had raised a tentative hand to wave at him and to beckon him over, but he had disappeared in a whirlwind of wrath and she had felt quite at a loss. Nonetheless, staring now at the wall of the attic, she felt something must be done, or said to him. She couldn't let him leave without making an attempt to apologise, no matter what it might cost her in pride.

Jo's sisters were quite bewildered when the whirlwind that was their sister rushed down the stairs and slammed out of the door, fastening her buttons as she went. They had wisely said nothing about the whole affair in front of Jo, feeling it to be as private a matter between herself and Laurie as anything could be, but all were curious as to how it would work out. As Jo disappeared across the way and into the Laurence abode, Beth caught her breath and returned to her embroidery with renewed vigour, as if to distract herself from troubling thoughts. Meg exchanged a glance with Amy but neither changed the subject from the gloves Meg had seen that afternoon in town. Marmee said not a word.

Jo let herself into Laurie's house, as she was wont to do, stamped the mud from her boots and discarded her coat at the foot of the stairs in her usual careless way. She was determined to speak to Laurie, no matter how blackly angry he might be, and she ventured towards the music room first, knowing he often retreated there to try and soothe his feelings when he was upset. Sure enough, she found him there, bent over his sheets of music. He was industriously changing dynamics above the staves and took no visible notice of her entrance.

She stepped carefully into the room, as quietly as she could manage. "Laurie, please forgive me." Jo bit her lip and looked as contrite as she could. "I don't mean to hurt you, you know I don't. I don't want you to go away like this." She slid her hand across the top of the piano towards him. "Please, Laurie." He turned away from her and scrubbed roughly at his eyes with his hand, still saying nothing. She stepped closer to him, the heels of her boots harsh against the wooden floor. "Laurie? Please talk to me, Laurie." She crouched until she could stare up into his face, her skirts rustling around her feet.

"Jo, I can't-" His voice wavered. "Don't you see that if you don't love me like I want you to, I can't?" He closed his eyes to block out the sight of her. He'd hoped not to see her again before he left, or if he had to that it would be only the briefest of goodbyes. On hearing her enter - for he'd know the sound of her footsteps anywhere - his stomach had plummeted into his boots. He had nothing he could say to her that had not been said already, and nothing he wanted to hear her say but three words he knew he would never hear from her lips.

"Shh, Laurie." Jo reached up and touched his face. She ran her fingers across his cheeks and down to his mouth. "I know." She stared at him, fixing his face in her mind, as if she had never truly seen him in the years before. He looked older, even after these few days, more of a man. "I'm just selfish. I'm an awful selfish pig. I don't want you to go away. I'll miss you so much, and-" He opened his eyes and stood up, taking her with him. He moved her hand down from his face and took it in his own, running his own fingers over the ink-stains that adorned hers.

"I don't want to go either," he said, and his voice was more serious than Jo had heard before. "But you know I can't stay here now." He looked down at her, and she blinked fiercely, as if fighting back a tear. He almost smiled at that, for Jo hated to cry and some small, mean part of him was glad to have provoked such a reaction in her for it meant she cared more than she knew.

"I know you can't. I wish I didn't know," she murmured. "Oh, Laurie!" And she tightened her arms around him, as though determined not to let him go just yet and buried her face in his jacket to hide her tears.

An observer peering through the window or peeking around the doorframe would have seen that he bent his head down to her and whispered something - we know not what - in her ear, and she turned her face from his chest and looked up at him. Perhaps, if the observer had few enough manners, they would have continued to watch, and seen the two kiss, but it would not have been a beginning, nor an ending - just Jo, soothing the unhappiness of her boy and Laurie, taking his first step into growing-up.

 


End file.
